33. Is This The Way It Goes? #2
I thought I was alone before, but it was Garrett who showed me I wasn’t, that I was surrounded by people who loved me, who wanted to share a space with me.
But as I look around the table, all I see is a space I don’t belong in. Couples in love. Friends with more connections. Where do I fit in? I thought this was the one place I did belong, here with these people, but now I’m just not sure.
My heart begs me to argue with my brain, but I don’t have the energy. Not today, not anymore, and every inch of my body aches as it curls in on itself, begging for solitude, which is ironic; I don’t want to be alone anymore. But I don’t want to be lost either.
A clinking sound draws my attention, and I watch curiously as Garrett scoops his ice from his unused glass, wrapping it in the cloth napkin from his lap. Turquoise eyes meet mine, and he takes my hand in his beneath the table, pressing the covered ice to it, curling my fingers around it.
My sore skin is instantly soothed, and for a moment, Garrett squeezes a bit harder, his palm warm on the back of my hand before he releases me. He reaches for a bottle of sparkling water, filling my glass and his before passing it around the table.
I watch as he brings his glass to his plush lips before laying both hands back in his lap, and God, I want to touch him. So badly, I want his hands on me. I want that full, safe feeling that comes with having my fingers laced through his.
I’m not ready to give up; I don’t care if that makes me na?ve. What we have, it’s not something you simply let go. I don’t have much experience with relationships, but this feels like one of those once-in-a-lifetime things.
How many times can I tell myself I’m tired of being scared? That all I want to do is close my eyes and jump? Except I don’t need to close my eyes with Garrett. I’ve always been sure of who he is, what he means to me.
My hand moves on its own accord, inching toward his below the tablecloth. He spreads his fingers a little wider, like his pinky is reaching for mine, and I know that whatever has happened, we can work through it together.
“Excuse me. Garrett, right?”
My eyes lift to the raven-haired beauty hovering at the edge of the table, grinning at Garrett. I pull my hand back as the table quiets, every head turning in their direction.
The woman lays a hand at the base of her throat. “Susie. I was the—”
“Oh!” Carter snaps his fingers. “You’re the photographer! From the photoshoot for the suits. The hockey butts!” He cocks a smug brow. “My name is Carter Beckett, and I have a hockey butt.”
Susie giggles. “Yeah, that’s me. You guys were the most fun I’ve ever had at work before.
” Her eyes move over me and widen. “And oh my gosh, hey! You’re that dancer!
I just photographed your show! You were amazing!
I got tons of great shots, and that kiss at the end?
” She lays her hands over her heart. “Total swoon. You could really feel the love between you two.” With a shy smile, she turns to Garrett, and my stomach flip-flops, making me nauseous.
“I was kinda bummed out not to hear from you.”
“Oh, I…” Garrett’s cheeks flame, eyes bouncing around the table. The only face he avoids is mine.
“He’s seeing someone,” Carter pipes up. “Or not anymore?” He scratches his head, frowning. “You haven’t mentioned her in a while.”
“I was,” Garrett replies slowly, and I watch his fists ball as my throat closes.
“I’m sorry it didn’t work out,” Susie says. “Maybe we could go out one night?”
It feels like all my blood rushes to my head as I wait for his reply, but it’s not him who speaks next.
“C’mon, Gare. It’s Valentine’s Day. Gotta jump headfirst into any chance at love.”
I guess there’s a first time for everything. Like me, right now, being upset with Hank.
Garrett hesitates before standing. With a delicate touch to Susie’s shoulder, he gestures toward the lobby. “Why don’t we go somewhere private to talk?”
My napkin slips, landing on the ground below Garrett’s chair, ice scattering.
“Oh shit.” I bend to retrieve it, rolling too far forward, landing on the floor between Garrett’s chair and mine.
“Oh fuckballs.” I laugh, super anxious. Reaching under his seat, I grab the melting ice cubes and hammer my head off the edge of the chair on my way back up.
“Oh motherfucker.” I grip my head with one hand, holding the ice up with the other, and grin, extra shaky. “Got it.”
I’m going to vomit. And cry. And hyperventilate. Right here at the table. At the same fucking time. I’m about to have a crisis, and the only person I want to hold me while I have it is the one currently guiding another woman out of the restaurant.
“Jennie,” Cara calls, eyes holding the remorse of someone who’s just watched a good old-fashioned heart-stomping. “I need to use the bathroom. Will you come with me?”
“Yes. No.” My hands tremble and my throat squeezes.
Everything hurts. Is this the way it goes?
Why does it feel like my entire body is breaking?
My face feels hot, and I don’t know how to get enough air into my lungs.
“I really don’t feel well.” I place my hand on my cheek.
It’s clammy and warm. “I think I’m going to be sick. ”
Olivia digs in her purse and pulls out a set of keys. “I’ll take you home.”
“What?” Carter looks from me to her. “You can’t drive. I’ll take her.”
“It’s your birthday. You stay. Her apartment is down the road. I’ll be back before the appetizers get here.”
“I’ll be fine. Really.” I stand quickly, knocking over Garrett’s water. I pick up the glass and swipe the sweat from my forehead. “Just need to get some air. I’ll be right back.”
I weave through the restaurant before anyone can argue, and step into the frigid night air, the wind slapping at my damp skin.
A hand lands on my lower back as I watch Garrett and Susie talk in the parking lot.
“Come on,” Olivia says, my bag and coat tucked under her arm. “Let’s get you home.”
But when the valet brings the car around and I climb in, watching through the blowing snow as Garrett embraces Susie, all I want is for me to be the one in his arms.
* * *
Five minutes. A five-minute drive home, and I can’t keep it in check.
I tell myself I’m just fine, that I’m holding it together, that I was fine on my own before Garrett, and I’ll be fine on my own after Garrett.
But we’re thirty seconds from the restaurant when the first tear rolls down my cheek as I stare out the window. And with the first one comes the second, then the third, and the fourth.
Olivia doesn’t say a single word as we drive in silence, and I must be some kind of stupid to think she’s going to let me out of this car just like that when we get home.
Her hand wraps around my elbow, stopping me when I reach for the door handle. Her big brown eyes soften when she turns me to face her, and she takes my hands in hers.
“For the sake of my marriage, Jennie, we’re not going to use names right now. When your brother inevitably finds out, I need to be able to say I did not know who it was you were seeing.”
Tears slide down my face faster, and I’ve never felt so weak before. I hate it. “You would do that for me?”
“I would do anything for you, Jennie. I love you.”
“Everything was fine,” I cry softly. “Everything was fine until yesterday when he got home. He picked me up from school and we had a fight, but I don’t even know what for.
I think I hurt his feelings, but I didn’t mean to.
He’s my-he’s my…” I pull in a sniffle, wiping at my eyes, the tips of my fingers coming away smeared with black.
“He’s my best friend and I…He means so much to me. I would never want to hurt him.”
Olivia’s gaze holds all the compassion of a woman who’s going to make the most amazing mother, and I’m so thankful my brother has her.
“It sounds like there’s been a big miscommunication somewhere along the way.
Sometimes we do silly things when we’re jealous and scared, when we’re hurting, or when someone we love is hurting.
You two need to be honest with each other, lay it all out.
You Becketts are good at that. Don’t be afraid to show him how you feel. ”
She brushes my hair off my damp face, tucking it behind my ear. “Your brother once told me we miss out on the best things in life when we’re scared. I was scared for a long time, and when I finally jumped, I couldn’t even remember why I’d been so scared.”
“That’s because Carter’s obsessed with you,” I choke out.
“If I were to have seen anything tonight, it would have been a man who had his eyes on you every single time you looked away, someone who’s as equally obsessed as my husband. If you jump, Jennie, I think he’s going to be waiting there to catch you.”
So badly, I want her to be right.
For once in my life, I just want to be loved. Loved for who I am, for what I have to give. I want someone to see everything I bring to the table and eagerly sit down with me.
I’ve spent way too many years coming up with excuses, making myself smaller for people who didn’t know how to handle everything I was.
I’ve never had to hide with Garrett. There were times when I’ve moved slower, tested the water before diving in, but Garrett’s always been there, waiting with open arms.
He takes every bit of me, the shattered trust, the deep, never-ending grief, the bold and loud, the soft and quiet, both the confident and the timid, and he makes a space for all of it, for all of me in his big heart, and he never asks for anything more.
Is this what love feels like? Is this what it’s like to be loved by someone with no obligation to be anything other than myself?
Warm and fuzzy, like curling up on the couch on a cold, snowy night in my favorite of his hoodies and a mug of hot chocolate after a long day.
Like my favorite person smiling down at me, pressing his lips to mine before he lifts the blankets and slides in beside me, pulling me into his warmth, the safety net he casts around me every time he’s near.
Because with him, I’m safe. Safe to be myself, safe to feel, safe to want, safe to be .
If this is love, I’m in it.
If this is love, I never want to let go.
* * *
Upstairs, I stare at each carefully wrapped Valentine gift, pretty packages finished with red silk ribbons.
I ditched the dress the second I walked in, sitting here now in his hoodie and a pair of sleep shorts. My face has been scrubbed clean, and despite the overwhelming exhaustion that runs rampant, adrenaline keeps me moving while I watch the clock.
I don’t know how this night will end, but I can’t wait any longer. Bottling up these emotions is wreaking havoc on my brain; I need to let them free.
So I slip my feet into my slippers, shuffle over to my door, and throw it open.
“Garrett,” I gasp softly, coming alive as I stare up at the only love I’ve ever craved.
The gift bag he’s holding lands at my feet, his gaze searing and intent as he sweeps into my apartment, locking the door behind him.
“I’m so fucking tired of pretending.”
“Pretending what?” It’s nothing but a breathy whisper as he prowls toward me, matching each of my steps backward.
His strong hands cup my face, piercing gaze locked on mine as he looms above me. My heart slams in my chest as his thumb sweeps across my lower lip, and his eyes dip, watching as my lips part on a jagged inhale, before flipping back up to mine.
“I’m so fucking tired of pretending I’m not in love with you.”